


Good Hunter

by Duskynoir



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskynoir/pseuds/Duskynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Plain Doll has been stirred awake once again to guide a Hunter along his journey. Though unlike the others, there is something about this Hunter that makes him special. Whether it be because of Ancient Echoes or something else, he is different from the rest.</p><p>Light Plain Doll/Male Hunter fluff. Spoilers for ending scenes and potential items.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> I always found it interesting that despite Plain Doll being called "My Waifu" on a lot of forums, there was a surprisingly little content on the Internet where she got the affection she deserved from a Hunter. So, here's this little thing. I tried not to get too heavy into the lore and that since I'm still being boggled by it but there is room for cuteness between a Hunter and the Doll if you look for it. After all, with all the shit that can go down, at least she remains a constant companion.
> 
> Also, she's hella cute. And I really like male Hunters having a crush on her. *insert awkward gestures*
> 
> So, here we go.

When her eyes first opened, she saw nothing around her but she knew she had been awaken for a reason. A new Hunter was out. That was the only way she ever was brought to life and she moved from her spot by the ivy and cold stones to stand on the stone walkway she knew so well. Her lantern was dying making her frown but she did not tend to it. Not until she met her new Hunter. She prayed they made it back soon.

For several hours she stood without moving, her eyes on the tombstones that surrounded the Refuge. She could hear Gehrman moving above in the house but she paid no mind to him. He wasn’t her priority. Hers should be coming, as she was still awake, and when the flowers began to sway in a cool wind, he came.

He looked as all the rest had before. She recognized him and she folded her hands, waiting, but he did not come near her at first. He looked confused on seeing her, truthfully, which she did not mind. She instead looked to the weapon he had brought. He had chosen the axe and he put it away quietly, slowly taking the steps towards her. Her eyes moved to meet his, her standard lines now coming to dance on the tip of her tongue.

“Hello, Good Hunter,” she greeted him and he paused. He was wary but she did not mind. She was there for him no matter what. “Do not be alarmed. I am a doll.”

He frowned at that.

“I am here to look after you,” she said to soothe him. “Here for you in this dream.”

He came closer to her making her smile a bit. She showed him her hands briefly. “My dear Hunter, pursue the Blood Echoes in your time here. I will make them your strength and help your spirit. Hunt the beasts, as you should.”

“Blood Echoes…” he finally said, confused. His voice was pleasant to her and she couldn’t help but gently nod. He showed her his hand. “You mean these?”

She looked to him, seeing through him to the parts of him that collected such things. Yes, he had captured some. She reached out and took his hand into hers, cradling it making him stiffen. “I will make the echoes become your strength, good hunter,” she told him. “Close your eyes.”

He did as she said. She knelt down, drawing the echoes from him, giving him strength in return. Vitality, Endurance, Strength, Skill. There was a flash when she drew the last from him and she let him go. He drew back, looking to his hand and she slowly stood.

“Thank you, Good Hunter,” she said and he briefly looked at her, still unsure, before he moved up the stairs to explore his Refuge. She watched him until he disappeared, moving around his home and she stood quietly, waiting. He came back not long after, moving to a tombstone and he studied it before he disappeared. She closed her eyes, hoping for a good hunt. She also couldn’t help but pray that his wariness would not last long.

 

\--

 

Somehow, during his absence, she sat down and she closed her eyes. The breeze was nice and there was a pleasant hint of the smell of flowers wafting through the air. The Bath Messenger was playing in his home, splashing when petals came into his space and above, Gerhman moved about his own until he left to do as he wished. They were all at peace while the Hunter tracked down his prey.

She slept. It wasn’t long, she hoped, and she had no dreams but she was woken by a hand touching her. Her Hunter was back and she looked up to him, her eyes blinking. He studied her, his clothes stained with blood and she apologized, though she was pleased he had made it back.

“Forgive me, Good Hunter, for not greeting you,” she said, moving to stand. He stepped back, his axe strapped to his back, nicks and marks now in the blade. “I am sorry I drifted off.”

He said nothing, only his eyes visible on his face as he now wore a cloth and she stood respectfully before him. “What is your desire?”

He held out his hand. “I have Blood Echoes.”

She took it, holding it gently to herself. “I will make them your strength. Close your eyes.”

He did so and she knelt before him, once again giving him what he needed in exchange for such things. Vitality, Strength, Endurance, Skill. Even some Arcane and Bloodtinge which he took. The light grew bright when they withdrew, his hand clenching for a moment after and she stood. He nodded to her, moving to go to his home.

“Farewell, Good Hunter,” she said as he left and he continued up the steps. She stood where she had been, reaching up to wipe the sleep from her eyes and he came down not long after, disappearing into the tombstones again. This time she tried not to sit down and sleep but it was hard. She was so used to being in a slumber that she desired to go back but that was not her place. She needed to be there for her Hunter and she waited for him once more.

 

\--

 

He returned to her in new robes, his face fully exposed. She smiled when he drew near as she could tell whatever he had faced, he had been victorious. “Did you have a good hunt?” she asked as he came up to her, giving her his hand.

“I did,” he said in a quiet voice. She cradled his warm hand, kneeling before him to imbue his body with strength and when she was done he rolled his shoulder, looking around.

“May you continue to be victorious, Dear Hunter,” she said and his eyes met hers. For a second they softened making her feel a flutter within before he moved to do his business. He left again not long after, his coattails flapping as he did and she waited, her finger tapping lightly. He was a good Hunter. She prayed he continued his victory.

 

\--

 

The times he came back, they fell into a routine. He would visit her first, letting her cradle his hand, before he moved to his home and rummaged around. He would go to the Bath Messenger, teasing it once making the poor thing splash water at him before he would go back to hunt. His axe got more worn until he replaced it with a Hammer and his clothes constantly changed. Sometimes she got to see his face. Sometimes she saw nothing. But he grew, every step he took he became more and more victorious and stronger. She wondered if he was the one who would end the night as it hadn’t happened for a long time.

But she kept her thoughts about what he could accomplish at a minimum. After all, she had known many Hunters before and she had loved them all. They all had fallen, in one way or another, and she knew optimism could easily lead to more sadness. But she kept up a bit of hope for her new Hunter.

When he returned once, she posed a question to him. “Do you know the Church?”

He looked to her, frowning.

“Hunters have told me about the Church,” she began. “They told me about gods and love. Gods love, do they not?”

He didn’t seem comfortable with the questions she was asking. “I suppose.”

“Do they love their creations?” she asked him.

“They could.”

She had to smile sadly at his response and he picked up on her expression.

“What’s wrong?”

She had never really been asked that before and she almost hesitated to respond. But she was a doll with little emotions. So she told him. “I was created by humans. By that, you are my gods. Do you humans love me?” her eyes met his and he seemed to grow some color on his face, his lips pressing thin. “I love you.”

He went red.

“I love all of you,” she continued. “But… is that because humans made me? Or is it something else?”

He shifted in slight discomfort. “I don’t know,” he said, looking for a way out. She could see it and she had to smile.

“Forgive me, dear Hunter,” she said in almost amusement at his fluster. “Have a good hunt.”

He left not long after but when she was alone she let out a sigh. She closed her hand tight over her other for a moment, some sort of heaviness within her.

“Have a good hunt,” she repeated before she sat down. Her lantern was struggling to remain lit but the night was changing. She wondered if she would need it for long. She wondered if she would see morning.

 

\--

 

He came back to her after a long time, his clothes once again different. She waited, extending her hands to take his own but he didn’t give her his palm. He instead produced something that made her pause.

“Here,” he said quietly. She stared at the item he held for her. It was a comb.

“What… is this?” she asked, reaching to take it and it was if the item called to her, something tugging in the deep recesses of her mind. This comb was important. It had been important to her.

“It’s yours,” he said, watching her and she held the comb tight in her hands as if letting it go would end her. She had to look at it again, something welling inside her body.

“This…” she tried to explain but she couldn’t. She didn’t understand the thoughts inside her over it. Instead, she had to ask him. “What am I feeling? This is strange. Like a yearning. As if this was apart of me.”

“It is,” he said quietly. “Because it’s yours.”

She didn’t fully understand. She instead cradled it to herself, a smile coming upon her lips and she looked up to him, her eyes meeting his.

“Is this what joy is, dear Hunter?” she asked him. His cheeks colored again. “I feel as if that is what I am experiencing.”

“H-Here,” he muttered, taking the comb from her and he moved almost behind her. He touched her bonnet, looking to see if she was alright and she let him remove it, her hair tucked into a tight bun underneath. He awkwardly placed it, guessing where it should go and she let him, her hands moving to touch her chest. Yes, what she was feeling was joy and she smiled deeply as he tried to help pin her bonnet back on. She finally reached up, doing it herself and he stepped back.

She looked to him, reaching up to wipe a tear away though that was impossible and what she produced she gave to him. He took the solidified stone.

“Thank you, my dear Hunter,” she said in a soft voice. He went red. She took his hand, holding it almost to herself but not quite and she began to kneel. “Close your eyes.”

He let her fill his spirit with everything she could from the echoes he had brought, not letting go once they were done and when he finally took his hand back, he bowed to her. She bowed back.

“Have a good hunt,” she told him in her most sincere voice. He gave her a smile and moved to his home, leaving her for the time. She didn’t mind. It gave her a moment to herself so she could reach up and undo her bonnet to touch the comb, sliding it into place.

“My Good Hunter,” she said softly and he left by the tombstones, his axe being pulled out as he did. She sat down on the stone wall, the breeze feeling comforting as it passed through the Refuge and she brushed her hair back. She prayed for his success.

 

\--

 

He came back less frequently but when he did, he spent more time with her. He showed her his tools which she tilted her head at, not understanding them very much. His explanations on them were a bit sloppy. But when he swung around the courtyard, showing off the strength she had given him, she clapped. She was happy to see him so strong.

He came back to her side with a gentle smile after. “The beasts all fear me now,” he told her.

“Yes, Good Hunter,” she replied. “And yet… your presence is soothing. As if you have Ancient Echoes within you.”

He frowned, not understanding and she smiled, wanting to reach up and soothe him back but instead she took his hand, holding it gently. This time, he knelt before her making her blink. But she continued, taking his Blood Echoes, the light strong once they were done.

He didn’t pull back his hand right away and she held on to it still, feeling his warmth. He took a step closer to her making her head tilt up, her eyes on his and he opened his mouth to speak before he closed it. He hesitated, withdrawing, and he drew out his axe.

“I need to get back,” he said, leaving her making her frown and he left by the tombstones. She continued to stand, still frowning, and she finally reached up to cup her hand. It was still warm from him. Slowly she let out a sigh and she went back to her pose, waiting for him to return.

“Good Hunting, dear Hunter,” she said despite him not being there and she waited once again. The night was slowly drawing to a close. She wondered what path he would take once it did.

 

\--

 

The dream was on fire. She remained where she was, the flames not bothering her, but Gehrman came down. He gave her a look but she didn’t make an expression to it.

“When your Hunter comes, tell him to see me,” he said before he left and she remained where she was.

Her Hunter came not long after, stopping when he saw the fire and she tilted her head to him. He walked to her, still minding the flames and when their eyes met, she couldn’t help but inhale slightly so she could let out a sigh.

“Gehrman awaits you. At the foot of the tree,” she gave him the message. He turned to look where she meant, his eyes narrowing from under his wide brimmed hat and she folded her hands. “Go to him, my Good Hunter.”

He didn’t move though he did reach up to pull his scarf away from his face, revealing himself. She watched him with some bit of sadness and he looked to her, their eyes meeting.

“Why does he want to see me?” he asked her.

“I do not know,” she said. Whether she did or not was here or there. He needed to go to him. Her Hunter frowned, his expression unhappy, but he did not voice it. He instead held out his hand.

“I have Blood Echoes,” he said.

“Very well,” she replied, taking his hand gently, giving him the strength he needed but when the light flashed he stepped towards her, his hand curling over hers and she looked to him, frowning. He invaded her space, moving as close to her as he could and his mouth came to touch the side of her left cheek. She stood still though her hands felt hot and when he withdrew she found herself blinking, looking to him in shock.

“I’ll be back,” he said, drawing away and she let her hand get dragged with his until he let go and moved to where Gehrman was, his coattails swaying as he did. She collected herself, bringing her hands together but not before she touched her porcelain skin. It was wet but warm and she frowned. She did not feel joy like she had when she was given the comb but something else stirred inside her.

She decided to ignore it and she waited, watching the dream around her waver. Swords met and petals filled the air, the sounds of Gehrman rising from his place making her close her eyes. He had been challenged and had accepted. She waited where she was, not interested in the fight that was echoing from nearby.

It seemed to last a decade. Their blows were matched, their skills equal, but her Hunter was more skilled thanks to his last ask for Echoes. She knew when Gehrman went down as she could feel it within herself. That was when she stirred and began to walk, her hands together as she did. Though her Hunter had been brave and skillful, he lacked something that would have put an end to it. She did not know what it was but she could feel it.

The moon went red. The sounds became deafening. And by the time she reached the gate, it was over. Her Hunter lay in a field, his coattails flapping. She went to gather him, silent as she did. But before she could try and lift him, his hand caught hers.

He said nothing, his face shrouded by his garments and she waited but he didn’t respond. Slowly he circled his hand around hers, giving it a squeeze that made her body feel odd before he let go. She remained still, giving him time, but nothing else came. Nothing but the fires of the dream extinguishing, flowers once again filling the air and she lifted him, bringing him to the wheelchair that had been Gehrman’s, settling him in as he was now the new master.

She took him back and he was still as she did.

“The hunt will continue,” she told him. “New Hunters will come.”

He said nothing and she took him to his old home, setting him in a position to which he would have to greet the others. His insight was still there but she could feel their link severing. Soon, she would be a doll again to wait for a new Hunter. She straightened his robes, brushed off the bit of dirt and once again she turned to leave.

He caught her hand making her stop.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” his voice came out and she blinked, staring at the doors. “Now I don’t have to.”

She said nothing. Not because she did not want to but because she couldn’t. She didn’t know what to say. He squeezed her hands, holding them tight and she curled hers against his to hold it back.

“New Hunters will come,” she said. “I will be waiting for them.”

“I know, my dear,” he said and she tilted her head, finally looking back to him. His eyes were not the same as before but there was a smile on his face that made her continue to hold his hand. “Help them as you did me.” She frowned but only because he pulled her back, moving to place his lips against the back of her hand. “But don’t forget me up here.”

She turned to face him, her eyes softening at his words.

“My Good Hunter,” she said and he scooped up her other hand, holding both of them to his mouth. “I will not forget.”

He let her go and she eventually went back down, settling in against the wall, her body feeling strange and her hands warm. She tapped her finger quietly, leaning back to fall into a slumber until she was needed but before she did she raised her hand to her lips, brushing them over where his had been. The comb was still in her hair and she sat herself differently, her legs tucking under her as the night began to rise.

“Good Hunter,” she said softly, an exhaustion slipping over her as their link was severed and his Insight was gone. “May we meet again soon.”

She slumped back, her hand falling down and the soft wind stroked her hair as she feel into her sleep. When she woke, she would have a new Hunter to love. But with Gehrman now gone and her Good Hunter home, she found her desire to want more not being as strong. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps it wasn’t. But she was just a plain doll who was created by humans to love.

But she did pray that the warmth on her hands and her cheek never went away.

\--


End file.
